


Keeping Vigil

by scifishipper



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bones is Grumpy, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has been unconscious for three days and Bones has no idea why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> My first TOS fic. *squee*

Jim sat with his fingers wrapped around Spock’s hand, stroking the long fingers, wondering how many times he'd done this before. His first officer was lying in the biobed, vital signs normal, yet unable to be revived.

“What’s causing this, Bones? Can you fix it?” Jim’s voice was urgent.

“Jim, I wish I could tell you. I’ve tried every damned thing and there hasn’t been any change.”

“The burns. Is it a healing trance? Vulcans have ways of healing themselves. Could that be it?” Jim looked at Spock’s face, where the burns had melted his skin away from his right cheek to his collar bone. He had been lucky that his eye had not been destroyed. He winced at the memory of his best friend badly injured. 

“I’ve healed the burns, Jim. No internal injuries. I have no damned idea why he’s still out.” Bones was never grumpier than when he was faced with a medical emergency he couldn’t fix.

“If I only knew more about Vulcan biology. I’ve got lots of records, but I know those pointy-eared bastards keep things to themselves. Doesn’t help me a damn whit when I need to help one of them.” Bones grumbled as he strode away from Spock’s bedside. 

Jim remained, though, refusing to leave Spock’s side. It was his fault that he’d been injured and he’d be damned if he’d be absent when Spock awoke. 

Bones called from the other side of sickbay. “Jim, you want anything. I’m replicating dinner.”

“No, thanks, Bones. I can’t think about food when Spock’s lying there.” Jim gritted his teeth. He knew that being a doctor made Bones dispassionate, but this was too much.

Jim squeezed Spock’s hand again. “Spock. Spock. It’s Jim. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you back here. It’s been three days and we can’t figure out what’s wrong. We’re still in orbit around Brundavi, afraid to leave just in case you’ve contracted some disease we can’t cure. Come on, Spock.”

Spock’s face did not change and his vitals remained constant. Jim didn’t think he could even hear him. 

Bones came back in to the room shoving a sandwich into his mouth. 

“Damnit, Bones! Have some common courtesy, would you? Spock is unconscious and you’re eating…what is that anyway? Pastrami? Are you mad?”

Bones swallowed the mouthful and sputtered. "This is my goddamn sickbay and I’ll do whatever I please. If you weren’t so damn reckless, maybe Spock wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Jim’s mouth tightened into a thin line and he let go of Spock’s hand to stand and face McCoy. “How dare you question my actions? We’re in Starfleet and there are risks. Spock knew them. I know them. Hell, even you know them, although you never leave the damned ship any more. Don’t talk to me about –”

“It is a wonder that anyone can recover in this sick bay,” Spock’s voice interrupted Jim’s tirade and both men spun around. 

“Spock!” they cried in unison, their argument forgotten. “You’re conscious.”

Jim grinned as Bones glanced at the biopanel. “What the hell happened to you? All your readings were normal. Hell, they were better when you were unconscious.”

“It’s quite simple, Doctor. I was in a healing trance. When I was pulled from the fire, my mind automatically shut down and began to repair itself.”

“But it’s been three days. I healed the burns within a few hours,” Bones protested.

“Acknowledged, Doctor. Unfortunately, the burns were severe enough to induce a lengthy healing state, one which may not be shortened despite advanced technology. The Vulcan race has existed for thousands of years, doctor. But we, like humans, still possess primitive bodies that do not recognize the fast healing of your dermal generator. It was simply necessary to wait.”

Spock sat up and swung his feet over the side of the biobed. “I actually feel quite rested. If I may return to duty, Captain, Doctor?”

Jim blinked at him, surprised and amused to watch his interaction with Bones. “What McCoy said, Spock. That it was my fault. I’m sorry. I tried to warn you about the explosives, but they’d blocked communications. I’m glad you’re okay.” Jim squeezed the Vulcan's shoulder, letting his hand linger for a long moment until Spock spoke.

“I assure you that I am fine. I detected the explosive’s chemical signature upon entering the building and was able to escape the worst of the blast. You were in no way responsible, Captain.”

“Glad to hear it, Mr. Spock.” Jim grinned and glanced at Bones. “And now I think the good doctor owes me an apology.”

Jim smirked as McCoy’s mouth dropped open. “I’ll be a damned—” he protested.

“Captain, if you don’t mind.” Spock interrupted again. “I have several days of work to catch up on. I will leave you and the good doctor to negotiate a truce.” Spock glanced between them and stood.

“McCoy?” Jim asked, acknowledging to Bones that it was his job to clear Spock. 

“Yeah, fine. Spock you’re cleared.” Bones turned away mumbling to himself about Vulcan voodoo and incorrigible captains.

Jim watched his old friend stomp away and turned to Spock as he moved towards the door. “You know what, Spock. I think I’ll walk you to the turbolift.” 

Spock glanced back at the doctor. “I believe that would be wise, Captain.”

“Indeed.”


End file.
